Trailing Thieves

Under the waxing moon, the virtual world of the MMORPG was alive with the chatter of players and the distant howls of mythical creatures. Logan, with the day's toil at the anvil still fresh in his mind, initiated a profile call to his Uncle Ben. The old man's avatar, a rotund, jovial figure with a twinkle in his eye, appeared before Logan, seated upon a virtual rendition of his favourite armchair.

"Uncle Ben, how fares your quest in the graveyard? Did that tattered NPC gave anything good?" Logan asked, his voice laced with curiosity and concern.

Ben heaved a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of countless fruitless quests. "Oh, Logan, it's maddening! That blasted Graveyard NPC is toying with me. Sends me hither and thither across the map, chasing after fool's errands. I swear he's making up these quests as he goes!"